


tantrum

by rengineering



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Pocket Monsters: Sword & Shield | Pokemon Sword & Shield Versions
Genre: Gen, One Sided Rivalry, Other, POV Second Person, Self-Esteem Issues, Slow Burn, alcohol use, gender neutral reader
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-02
Updated: 2020-04-29
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:41:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21629272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rengineering/pseuds/rengineering
Summary: All eyes were focused on the gym leader. The hall lights dimmed to a single spotlight. He leaned in, eyes half lidded, fingers gently grasping stem of the microphone, lips grazing the rough surface, mouth forming around the lyrics to his final song. His eyes met yours, and you froze in place. Time was forgotten as your face flushed, your eyes went wide, and your heart raced.He smirked, breaking eye contact, and your expression quickly changed to a scowl. You swore to Arceus you would pummel this smug jerk into the dirt.--You're the overconfident child of a Unovan diplomat and you get your ass handed to you at the seventh gym. When Team Yell shutters Spikemuth, you get trapped in the city with your demons and the man who awakened them. Also you fall in love.
Relationships: Piers (Pokemon)/Reader
Comments: 23
Kudos: 227





	1. Days 1-14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> listen, this was supposed to be a fluffy oneshot, but now we're in slow burn hell i guess

You blinked as the dim light fixture suspended from the ceiling of the rundown motel came into focus. You groaned, rolling onto your side, mouth dry. Neon lights flickered from behind the thin curtain. The darkness made it hard to keep track of how much time passed in Spikemuth. 

You sat up and swung your legs over the side of the bed, wincing as your ankle throbbed. The injury jogged your memory. This all started two weeks ago. You'd been stuck in Spikemuth for two goddamn weeks.

 _'It's our responsibility to understand one another's cultures. You should try the gym challenge,'_ your father encouraged. _'It's quite different than what trainers experience in Unova.'_ He was a diplomat to the Unova region, where you spent most of your childhood. His job was relatively high profile, and as his child, you had a responsibility to keep up appearances. You had to admit, the diplomat life did seem pretty cushy, so you weren't totally against following your father's footsteps at the time. Maybe it would be fun to appear in an interview or two during the gym challenge. Say some niceties about bringing the two regions together. After that, you could go back to university or maybe work as an associate under your father. You had always been good at battling, and it wasn't like you actually _wanted_ to be the champion. So, you didn't have any issues with taking your dad's suggestion. Now, it was a different story. You thoroughly resented him for getting you into this situation. 

Things had gone smoothly for a while. You sailed through the first three gyms, receiving a warm send off from the leaders. The next three were more challenging, but you managed to keep up the breakneck pace. 

You remembered rushing through Circhester Bay, cursing the cold. It'd been a while since you saw any other challengers. You guessed they were straggling behind. Entering Spikemuth hadn't been a problem, and you made it past Team Yell handily. You heard one whisper about how you were the first challenger to show up. Your ego swelled a bit with that one. However, after that things started to go south. 

You walked briskly through the streets of Spikemuth after defeating what felt like the dozenth grunt. The alleyway opened up onto a stage, with Spikemuth's leader standing at the mic. It looked like a concert was in progress. The feedback from the speakers grated on your ears and you wondered when you could return to the comforts of literally any other city.

You pushed your way through the obnoxious concert goers to the front of the crowd. Looking down at the pit below was Piers. You knew he was the dark type gym leader, but other than that, you hadn’t bothered to do much research. After all, you were just here for appearance’s sake.

_'I love you. I’m sendin’ cheers to you.'_

What was he going on about? Honestly, you could barely understand the lyrics through the noise. You surveyed your opponent, impatient for the concert to end. He didn't look so strong. Surely the likes of Melony would grind the skinny man into the snow. Yet, here he was with dozens of adoring fans. Maybe people here were into the "haven't slept for days" look?

You watched as his foot tapped along with the beat. He didn't have the quite the same presence as the other gym leaders you had defeated. Your eyes wandered over his form fitting jersey and you reflexively sucked in your own stomach. He was even slimmer than the Kalosian models you knew subisted only on coffee and cigarettes.

The music suddenly slowed and the crowd seemed to quiet down. The show was nearing its end, you guessed. All eyes were focused on the gym leader. The hall lights dimmed to a single spotlight. He leaned in, eyes half lidded, fingers gently grasping stem of the microphone, lips grazing the rough surface, mouth forming around the lyrics to his final song. His eyes met yours, and you froze in place. Time was forgotten as your face flushed, your eyes went wide, and your heart raced.

He smirked, breaking eye contact, and your expression quickly changed to a scowl. You swore to Arceus you would pummel this smug jerk into the dirt.

The song came to an end and the crowd erupted into cheers. You tried to keep your things together as you were bumped around.

_'I don't give encores, but you're not here for that, are you?'_

Piers descended down into the crowd. They yelped and hollered as he came closer.

_'We don't have much of a gym, and we don't Dynamax our Pokemon.'_

Suddenly, the concert goers cleared off the floor, and you saw for the first time you had been standing on the stadium floor the whole time.

_'But hopefully we can have a good battle.'_

You shook your head, clearing the effects of the music. The only thing you could hear now was the sound of his footsteps as he walked to his side of the field. After taking a few steps back yourself, you maximized the PokeBall in your hand. You raised your head and gave your cockiest grin.

 _'I beat the others without breaking a sweat. I should have no problem doing the same with you.'_ A bit of an exaggeration, but he probably wouldn't realize. 

_'Well then…'_

Piers grabbed the mic stand, swinging it around in front of him. 

_'Considering your confidence, you won't mind if I dedicate this next song to your defeat. Spikemuth, it's time to rock!'_

\--

You ran as fast as your legs would carry you back to the entrance of the city. Had the alley been this long on the way in? You swore under your breath, the colorful lights a blur all around you. Your legs burned. You sped past the Pokemon Center. Like hell you were going to hang around in this shithole. It should be a quick taxi ride back to Hammerlocke. Just as you were about to make it to the crisp air of Route 9, the shutters slammed down in front of you, blocking your exit. You came to a sudden stop, banging your palms against the cold metal.

_'Hey, what gives?!'_

_'Sorry, can't have any other challengers coming in to face Piers. It's a good thing you lost so bad, otherwise our plan would've been ruined!'_

Your face went hot with embarrassment. 

\--

Unable to leave Spikemuth, you challenged Piers again the next day. Surely the first time was just a fluke. 

He beat you handily. Again. You didn’t get why. You tried again two days later, with the same result. You were supposed to be _good_ at this. The shutters remained closed. With nowhere to go, your frustration mounted and you threw yourself into challenging Piers. You had been _born_ good at this. Your attempts became more desperate each time, your Pokemon becoming visibly exhausted. You weren’t even supposed to care about battling, so why-? 

On the sixth attempt nine days in, the force from a Payback knocked you back. You cried out and crumpled to the floor, grasping your ankle. A sprain. Your fingernails scratched the concrete as you bawled your hand into a fist, eyes hot with tears. You swore you heard the crowd jeering. Why couldn't you win when it had come so easily before? You slammed your fist into the ground and cried out. You ground your teeth, determined to finish the battle. You were sure Piers was looking down on you with that awful smirk. When you tried to stand, you could only stumble, knees hitting the ground and vision blurring. 

After that, Piers refused to battle you.

\-- 

It'd been four days since then, and you had since holed yourself up in your shitty motel room. You'd have to do something about money soon, as your pocket cash had been depleted in your multiple defeats. 

You sighed as you unwrapped the compress on your ankle. The swelling had gone down significantly, and the bruising was starting to set in. At least you could hobble around your room without bracing yourself against the furniture. 

Your stomach growled. You had been mostly aimless for the past few days, only leaving your room for food. You tightened the bandages around your ankle and stood up from the bed, walking over to the bathroom. The least you could do was splash some water on your face before you went outside. 

\--

It looked the same today as it had every other day the past two weeks. You stepped from under the motel awning and turned right toward the nearest pub. 

The bell jangled as you pushed open the door. It was rather empty, with only a few patrons dining in. You weren't even sure what time it was, honestly. 

"Oh, evening there!" The hostess came around from behind a partition. "Just you?" she asked, grabbing a menu. 

"Uh-" 

Before you could finish your thought, the bell jangled again and the hostess's eyes widened. 

"Piers! Welcome! Thanks for coming in. Table for one?"

Your shoulders tensed. You didn't even want to turn around. Embarrassed, you stuffed your hands into your pockets, hiding the scrapes caused by your most recent tantrum. You prayed he wouldn't recognize you from behind. 

"Yup, just me." You heard him take a few steps forward, and you bowed your head, desperate to avoid his gaze. You turned around in place, and attempted to escape.

Somehow, he still noticed. 

"Oh, hey. You're-”

You didn't wait to hear the end of the sentence before the bell jangled a third time and the door to the pub slammed shut.

\--

You showed up to the pub again the next day without much thought. It had been a while since you had anything to drink, and after yesterday’s encounter, you desperately needed one. 

“Hey,” you slid onto a barstool and motioned to the bartender. “A Petal Dance, please.” He nodded in wordless understanding.

With your left hand holding your head and your right your drink, you began to pass the time.

You were halfway through your second cocktail when someone sat down next to you. You had already traced the knot in the woodgrain of the bar 79 times, so you figured you could tear yourself away and take a peek at your neighbor.

You saw a fluffy black and white mass in your peripheral. You prayed it was a Obstagoon.

“Hey leader! The usual?” the bartender called out.

The Obstagoon nodded.

You weren’t quite drunk enough to convince yourself that Obstagoon was a frequent enough patron of the bar to have a “usual.” It felt like every muscle in your body was contracting in protest of the interaction you were about to have. You started to feel chills.

“Hey.”

You gritted your teeth. That was definitely directly at you. So many thoughts were swirling around in your head, you weren’t sure what to retort back. You filled the silence by downing the remainder of your drink.

“So,” Piers started. “You’re not from around here, huh?”

You stared deeper into the wood grain beneath your hands.

“You’ve got an Unovan accent,” he continued.

Was he... making small talk with you?

“I hear there’s some strong trainers over there.”

Your knuckles started to turn white, grasping the edge of the bar.

“I’d love to go sometime, but I keep pretty busy on this side. Though I’m hoping my little sis can take over for me soon.”

You pushed back from the bar, toppling the bar stool over, but finally raising your head to face the man who had beaten you six times in nine days.

You were immediately surprised by how bright his eyes were. He blinked twice, his mouth slightly open in surprise. Your own lips were pursed shut, and you begged yourself to say something, _anything._

After that, you weren’t sure if it was a low-blood-pressure-thing or a being-a-little-drunk-thing that caused you to follow your bar stool onto the floor. 

As the room went dark, you had a vision of being scooped into the arms of an Obstagoon and being carried home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i don't know how british people talk Help
> 
> in the next chapter: more awkward encounters with That Man and fighting your self esteems issues. and Marnie and Gloria show up!


	2. Day 15, part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay! Holidays were wild. I didn't like how Chapter 2 panned out, so I deleted it and have uploaded this revised version. There's new content about 2/3 of the way in. Enjoy!

A soft breath escaped your lips as you turned onto your side, covers rustling as you stirred. You reached out to the motel nightstand where you had left your Rotom Phone to charge, but your hand didn’t find anything. You were still groggy, but you made your best attempt to open your eyes. You squeezed your eyes closed, wondering why you had left the lights on. Five more minutes.

You opened your eyes again when you felt a weight on your chest and a breath on your face. You had turned onto your back while you were dozing. Something wet touched your face, and you bolted up, startling the Zigzagoon that had been resting on top of you. It looked up at you with its lazy pink eyes, tongue hanging out of its mouth. Once it was satisfied with the results of the staring contest, it curled up into a small ball in your lap and closed its eyes.

You watched its body rise up and down a few times before were forced to admit to yourself that you had no idea where you were, or what this Zigzagoon was doing here.

The room was simply decorated, with few furniture pieces. The two doors led to the hall and a closet, you guessed. You recognized the halo of Spikemuth’s neon lights framing the curtain. Zigzagoon snuggled deeper into your lap as you ran your fingers through its fur. It was rather cute.

Two quick knocks at the half open door jolted from your musings. Before you could answer, a head popped in.

“Ah, you’re up.”

You felt the corners of your mouth form a slight grimace.

Piers let himself in and plopped down onto the desk chair adjacent to the bed. You noticed he wasn’t wearing the typical gym uniform, opting to ditch the jacket and jersey and wear a plain black t-shirt instead. He looked… just as slight as ever.

“Here,” he said, holding out his fingers. You looked at his hand, not sure what to make of the gesture.

When you didn’t respond, he gently pulled one of your hands from the Zigzagoon’s fur, and placed two small objects into your palm. Your skin prickled where he grabbed your wrist, and your ears felt hot for a second as his fingertips grazed your palm. You wondered if he played guitar. Or maybe piano. You snapped back to the present, looking at the two pills in your palm.

As your mind registered what Piers had given you, your confusion only augmented. Was he giving you… something illicit?

“Don’t look at me like that, it’s only ibuprofen.” He tapped his forehead. “You had a bit of a fever last night.”

The words “last night” caused you to suddenly remember. Your face turned hot as you grabbed the glass of water from the desk and attempted to hide your embarrassment. The last thing you remembered was running into Piers at the bar. You swallowed the pills and slowly drank the water, not sure how to fill the silence between the two of you. How had you gotten back?

Piers gazed at you with his half lidded eyes, elbow resting on his desk, and cheek resting on his hand. Your eyes darted around the room as you continued to drink. Was this Piers’ flat?

When you could no longer use the water to buffer the silence, you placed the glass back on the desk. 

“Thanks,” you finally murmured.

“No need. I’ve gotta take care of the challengers who come to my gym, right? Feel free to hang around and get some rest.” He pushed back from the desk chair, standing up slowly. You averted your gaze, suddenly embarrassed by your own behavior over the past two weeks. You had never really considered yourself someone who needed "taking care of." You'd always been confident in your battling skills, but you never let your ego get out of hand. As the child of a diplomat, you had participated in your fair share of exhibition matches, taken plenty wins, and even a few losses, with grace. What was different about this Gym? 

You tore yourself from your thoughts and resigned yourself to getting some rest. As you raised your eyes, you were surprised to be looking down at Piers, his hair tickling the side of your face. From this angle, you noticed how long his eyelashes were. Before you could say anything, he scooped the Zigzagoon up from your lap.

“Let’s go, Ziggy,” he muttered.

You weren’t sure what was happening, but you attributed it to the fever.

As the two began to leave the room, a loud bang caused Ziggy to suddenly jump out of Piers' arms. He jumped right back onto the bed and into your lap, body bristling with nerves. A Spikemuth Gym Trainer burst into the room.

“Leader! Marnie is back! And that Gym Challenger is with her!” He was nearly out of breath. Your eyes widened. Gym Challengers meant the gate was open. If the gate was open, that meant you could leave. 

“My guys were all taken out… sorry we couldn’t help Marnie.”

It was your turn to scoop Ziggy up as you jumped out of bed, ignoring the dull ache in your ankle.

“A Gym Challenger, huh? It’s been a while.” Piers rolled his shoulders as he glanced at you. “Two weeks, maybe?”

Did Piers not know the entrance to Spikemuth had been closed off this whole time? What, he thought you had just been hanging around because you were stupidly stubborn or something?

“I’m coming. I want to see the challengers.” It was only half a lie. Ziggy wriggled excitedly in your arms.

Piers opened his mouth like he was about to say something, but decided against it. “Why not? Let’s stir up some fun.” He gave the Yell Grunt a nod. “I’ll meet everyone at the pit.” The Grunt nodded back, and dashed out of the room as quickly as he had come.

“If you’re coming, you’ll want to grab your shoes and jacket. They’re by the front door,” Piers explained as he rummaged through his closet. “Figured you’d be more comfortable sleeping without them.” You frowned slightly. How much more was he going to rub your embarrassing behavior in your face?

You nearly dropped Ziggy when Piers began to peel off his t-shirt and replace it with his gym jersey instead. Your face went completely red as you noticed the way his shoulder bones moved underneath his skin before looking away.

“I’m going to freshen up,” you squeaked out, running into the hall to find a bathroom where you could splash water on your face. As you ran out of the bedroom, you saw Piers pull on his white jacket in your peripheral.

\--

You found the bathroom a little ways down the hall. You braced your hands on either side of the sink, looking into the mirror. Not too bad considering you couldn't even remember what happened the previous night. You grimaced and groaned into your hands. What was happening to you? First you throw what should've been several easy matches, then you pass out in a pub, and finally you have to be nursed back to health by a stranger? You twisted the sink knobs, wetting your hands and smoothing down some errant strands of hair. At least you finally had some hope that you'd be able to leave Spikemuth. You couldn't wait to get back to civilization. You wanted to go home to Unova as soon as possible. 

Ziggy let out a small yelp from the other side of the bathroom door, begging to be let in. You slowly opened the door, careful not to step on the Zigzagoon.

"Sorry for locking you out, bud." His tail was slowly wagging back and forth. "OK, only because you asked so nicely," you conceded, picking the Pokemon up into your arms. You heard the sound of running water coming from somewhere in the apartment. Sounded like Piers was doing a bit of washing up as well.

Remembering what he said about your shoes and jacket, you headed toward the front of the apartment. It looked like the living room was connected to the front entrance, and you saw your coat hanging on a hook near the door.

"OK, Ziggy, down you go,” you crooned, setting Ziggy on the couch by the front entrance. You heard the door to a medicine cabinet shut, guessing Piers was finishing up his own routine.

As you slipped into your jacket, a realization suddenly hit you. Piers had taken his uniform out of the closet of the room you had been sleeping in. People generally keep their clothes in their rooms. People also generally keep their beds in their rooms. So the bed you had been sleeping in...

_Piers’ bed?_

You gritted your teeth, crouching down in front of the door in order to tie up your boots. The image of his slightly bowed head and long eyelashes flashed in your mind as you took your frustration out on your boots' laces.

“Ready?” Piers’ voice surprised you a bit as you stood up straight. He was back to his regular get up, gym jersey and all. Hoping he wouldn’t notice your flushed face, you moved aside as he went for the door, and the two of you stepped out into Spikemuth.

You looked around, neon lights reflecting off the buildings around you. Piers’ flat turned out to be on the third floor, with grated metal stairs lacing the facade and leading down to the ground floor.

“Careful,” you heard Piers say as you made your way down, the only other conversation between the two of you the sound of your boots hitting the metal.

Another grunt was waiting for the two of you once you reached the bottom.

“Sorry Leader, we tried to stop anyone getting into Spikemuth by locking the shutter, but the challenger somehow snuck her way in with Marnie.”

“You what?” So the fact that the gate was locked _was_ a surprise to Piers.

“The uh- shutter. It’s locked. We-”

Piers sighed and brought a hand to his temple. “I get the picture. I’ll deal with you lot later.”

“I’m sorry! I’ll go tell ‘em to open it!” the grunt tried, nervously wringing his hands together. Your ears perked up. Finally, a stroke of luck. Piers sighed again.

“Don’t worry. Just head over to the floor.” And with that, your luck vanished just as quickly as it had materialized. You watched dejectedly as the grunt nodded and ran off. 

“So that’s why no one was coming to challenge the Gym,” you heard Piers mutter. “Figured it was ‘cause I’m...” He glanced over his shoulder at you, opting not to finish the thought. “Let’s go. The guys should be able keep the challenger busy enough to buy us time to prepare.”

You followed a few steps behind, watching his ponytail sway back and forth with each step, wondering what he was going to say. You looked up at the darkened sky. Despite being so strong, did he have doubts? Was it because it was impossible to Dynamax in the Spikemuth Gym? You shook your head. If you were that strong, you wouldn’t waste your time worrying about that kind of stuff.

“Sound good?” Piers asked you.

“What?” You had apparently agreed to something while you were spaced out.

“During the chorus, the harmony goes like this.” He sang three notes after one another. “You’ll know where to come in, so don’t worry too much. It’s casual. If you mess up, I’ll cover for you. We keep it loose around here.”

The whiplash was almost too much for you.

“‘Sides, you look like you got a decent pair of lungs on ya.”

You had never performed in any musical capacity previously, but the two of you arrived at the pit before you could say “no.” Once Piers handed you the microphone, you nerves turned the world into a hazy blur around you. Pokemon battles were one thing, but singing? Your usual confident attitude didn't apply. You tried to hang toward the back of the stage as much as possible. The lights were so bright you could barely see the crowd milling about below. They began to quiet down when Piers grabbed the mic and sound of the drums cut in.

The song started pretty hard. Not like the pop tracks you were used to. You fidgeted, swaying back and forth awkwardly, knuckles whitening around the microphone, as you waited through the intro. You watched anxiously as Piers performed, dipping the mic stand to the side before swinging it back up and giving you a glance over his shoulder as he made his way through to the chorus. It was catchier than you expected. The adrenaline made your head throb and heart beat fast. You nearly missed your part, but managed to squeak in a few notes. By the time you recovered, the second verse had already ended. The chorus was more familiar this time, and you found yourself closing your eyes, singing the accompaniment into the microphone. You even started enjoying it a bit. When you opened your eyes, Piers was giving you the same cocky grin he gave the first time you saw him perform. By the time the two of you made it to the bridge to the final chorus, you were even dancing a bit. Before you realized what happened, Piers had grabbed you by the arm and pulled you to the front of the stage. He looked directly at you as he sang. There was nowhere to hide. The chorus started and the two of you gave it your all.

As the song faded out, you lowered to a crouch, laughing silently, chest heaving up and down, breath stolen by the intensity of the performance. You wiped away the sweat dripping down your face and looked up at Piers with an exhausted smile on your face. You expected to see him smiling back at you, but his gaze was directed into the crowd instead. You followed his line of sight, and saw that the crowd had parted around a small girl in a green hat in the audience.

Piers sighed. 

“So, you’re finally here, huh?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know anything about music, but I go hard at karaoke


	3. Day 15 Part 2, Day 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This part is really short. I'll probably move this to the end of Chapter 2 eventually.

You were still breathing heavily from the end of the performance as you watched Gloria approach the stage.

“See, I’m… I’m really not a great Gym Leader. Figured that was why nobody was comin’ to challenge me.”

Piers stepped onto the Gym floor.

“I overheard the whole thing about the city bein’ shut up. When I was alone, it was like my soul was weepin’. This is a simple Gym Stadium. We can’t even Dynamax our Pokemon, but well… I still hope you enjoy the battle.”

The grunts cleared off the stadium floor.

“Now then...” You watched as he grabbed his microphone stand, and his whole demeanor seemed to change. His intensity made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

“I’m the Gym Leader of Spikemuth, Piers, the Dark-type user! You wanna challenge me even though you know you’ll lose? Then this song’s for you foolish Trainer! Get ready for a mosh pit with me and my party! Spikemuth, it’s time to rock!”

\--

Before you knew it, Gloria was jumping up and down, celebrating her victory with her Inteleon. Piers was crumpled onto the ground, grasping his mic stand. The challenger had won.

“Me an’ my team gave it our best. Let’s meet up for a battle again some time…”

Gloria grinned and nodded in response. You started down the steps from the stage, hoping this would be the end of your ordeal. You stopped a couple feet behind Piers when another girl walked onto the stadium floor.

“That was actually kind of sweet.” The ‘Marnie’ the grunt was referring to, maybe?

“So you were watchin’, Sis… You won’t learn anythin’ from seein’ me lose.”

“I was watchin’ _your_ battle, Bro. It’s how I learned to battle an’ all that. ‘Sides, you get some new talent for your band or somethin’?” Marnie asked, tilting her head toward you.

You were suddenly self conscious and waved your hands in front of yourself.

“No, I’m just a challenger… I-” You cast your eyes downward. “I lost though.” _Multiple times_ , you thought.

“That’s no surprise, my Bro’s pretty strong.” Her deadpan face took you slightly off guard.

You gave an unconvincing smile.

“Hey Sis, I know you’re itchin’ to fight, but how about you grab a bite with us first?” Piers nudged your shoulder with his own and you looked away. He was almost aggressively persistent when it came to taking care of his gym challengers. “Your friend can come too.”

“I’ll go! I’m starving,” Gloria grinned.

“As long as you’re payin’.”

\--  
  


“Hey, gimme a bite of that.”

You looked across the table, squinting slightly. Was this some sort of power play?

“Please, don’t tease me,” you frowned. “Haven’t you looked down on me enough already?”

He seemed taken aback by your biting comment.

“I wasn’t- I just-”

You smirked. Spurred on by the momentum of your previous comment, you scooped a large spoonful of mashed potatoes and stood up from your seat, reaching across the table. You were tired of him getting the best of you.

“Say aah--” You said with a sugary sweet voice. Piers didn’t react to the spoon you were directing toward his mouth. You scoffed. So he could dish it, but he couldn’t take it? Just as you were about to sit back down, he grabbed your wrist, taking the potatoes into his mouth.

“Thanks,” he said, returning to his unperturbed self, mouth full of mashed potatoes.

Marnie gave the two of you a look before trading glances with a giggling Gloria. Your wrist and face burned as you sat back down, defeated.

\--

“I never looked down on you, ya know,” Piers said, as you fumbled with your things, looking for the key to your room.

Piers had walked you back to the front entrance of your motel after his battle with Marnie. He seemed un-bothered after losing to two child-aged trainers in a row.

You looked up at him, the pink neon lights reflecting off the angles of his face. You knew he didn’t look down on your ability. You looked at his bright blue eyes. You were just making excuses for your own losses. You looked at his long soft eyelashes. You had made him into a bad guy in your mind so you could convince yourself you were taking the high ground. You looked at the way his two toned hair fell over his face.

“You’re a good trainer,” he continued, taking a slight step closer toward you. You turned away, jamming the key into the lock.

“...next time,” you muttered.

“What?”

“I said, I’ll get stronger and face you properly next time!” You turned the key, and stepped over the threshold, and slammed the door in Piers’ face.

\--

You quickly packed up your things the following morning, returning the motel key to the front desk. Grunts milled about paying you no mind as the early morning sun filtered through the open shutter. You half expected _someone_ to meet you as you left, but there was no one there. Ignoring the unfamiliar feeling in your chest, you emerged onto Route 9, finally able to return to Hammerlocke.


	4. Next Spring, Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another short part! The is honestly only half of what I planned for this chapter, but it's been so long I just wanted to post what I had. We're close to the end now!

PIERS POV

The Gym Challenge had come and gone, but you never ended up returning to Spikemuth.

_“Up next, an interview from Nimbasa City with Unova’s Dark Type Elite Four trainer, Grimsley!”_

Piers had accompanied Marnie to Hammerlocke to deal with some gym leader duties. 

_“We’ve had some really strong challengers here in the Unova region. Tell me, what do you do to shake off a loss?”_

Piers watched your interview on a nearby TV from the lobby of the gym as Marnie and the other leaders met. It seemed like you had really doubled down on your role as a diplomat's child, even becoming a minor influencer with a decently sized following.

_"Where there's a winner, there's also a loser. It's pathetic to make a big deal out of losing if you weren't prepared. If you're a true Pokémon battler, you'll reflect upon your loss and think about how to win next time!"_

Piers swore he saw your cheery facade break for a moment. 

_“An unrelenting answer! It’s no wonder you made it as one of Unova’s Elite Four.”_

“Hey Bro, ready to go?” Marnie asked, emerging from the field. Piers nodded, standing up and stuffing his hands in his pockets.

“Meetin’ go alright?” he asked.

“Yeah, just some routine stuff. Guess bein’ a Gym Leader isn’t just about Pokemon battling, huh.”

Piers smiled. “Guess not.”

_“And that’s all we have time for today. Thanks for tuning in! Unova has many strong trainers, and we encourage trainers from all regions to participate in our challenge! Check out your local Pokemon Center to learn how.”_

“That’s the challenger from last season, isn’t it?” Marnie asked, glancing up at Piers.

_“And special thanks to Grimsley for speaking with us today!”_

“Guess so.” Piers watched as the two of you stood up to shake hands. Grimsley unexpectedly placed a hand on your shoulder and pulled you close, whispering something in your ear. Your makeup and the studio lighting only barely concealed your blush. You recovered as quickly as you could, fumbling over your words a bit.

 _“Until next time, thank you!”_ The corner of Piers mouth twitched slightly as the interview transitioned into the next segment.

“Huh. Guess being an ambassador’s kid isn’t easy, either,” Marnie chuckled.

“Hey, they’re playing your interview again!”

“Oh, shut up! I don’t want to hear that stupid ad play even one more time. Who’s even in charge of that?”

Piers and Marnie turned to the source of the voices to see two graduate research students making their way through the hall to the Energy Plant.

\--

YOUR POV

“I ‘unno, seems like you kind of enjoyed it,” your colleague joked. You jammed your elbow into his ribs.

“I told you, my dad set that all up. I don’t even have access to the Pokenstagram account! Someone else posts all those photos of me.”

“Oi!” The two of you looked to the entrance of the gym as Marnie ran up to you, with Piers following behind.

“Why didn’t you ever come back to the gym?” Marnie asked. You looked down at Marnie and your face froze, trying to process what was happening.

“Hi Marnie,” you finally managed to say. You struggled to find the words. “Oh uh- congrats on the new role as Gym Leader!”

“You idiot! That was almost a year ago now!” You instinctively took half a step back, sensing Marnie’s mounting ager. “My Bro was waiting the whole time for you to come back!”

“I’m gonna go,” your coworker smirked. In a desperate move, you tried to grab him, but he scanned his badge and escaped through the door before you could reach. You searched for your own badge only to remember you had left it at home.

“Hey.”

You turned away from the now locked door to see the blue eyes that had done you in a year ago.

“H-hey.”

\--

Marnie left the two of you in a cafe, insisting that you catch up.

The ice clinked in your glass as you played with the straw in your coffee.

“S-so Marnie’s the leader now, huh? Must be a big change for you two,” you attempted to break the ice.

“I thought you’d run away to Unova.” It was impossible for you to read his tone or expression.

“I uh- oh. My dad had me do some work for a month or so. It didn’t really suit me, but the extra cash helped,” you laughed awkwardly. Hold on, what did he mean by ‘run away’?

“What did Grimsley say to you in that interview?”

“Huh?” You squinted, trying to remember his exact words. It had been a while.

“Uh- he-”

“And who was that guy?”

You avoided eye contact, brain nearly short circuiting as you tried to answer the onslaught of questions.

“He’s uh- a friend from the same program, we-”

“-can’t believe you were just in Hammerlocke this whole time.” It seemed as though the tension in Piers’ body released and he slumped onto the table in front of you, hiding his face in his arms. You swore his ears were slightly pink. “I really thought you weren’t comin’ back,” he said, his voice muffled.

You looked at the man in front of you, your mouth slightly agape. As per usual, you couldn’t keep up with what was going on with him.

“Ugh,” you ran your hand through your hair. “I can’t handle this stuffy place. Wanna battle?”


End file.
